


Cycles

by gallyakink



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Pregnancy, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8409301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallyakink/pseuds/gallyakink
Summary: Gaby, eight-and-half months pregnant, has waited impatiently all day for the father of her child to get home to perform his husbandly duties. Sweet and funny (and hot) depiction of married!gallya.Written by an anonymous author for the gallya kink meme on tumblr.





	

**Author's Note:**

> #6 (gallya) pregnancy  
> anonymous. #gallya #pregnancysex that is all. please and thank you.

Gaby watched the clock strike half past five as she paced about the flat in frustrated anticipation…or waddled, rather. She laid a hand over her protruding belly as she pulled the curtains back and peered down the street to see if she could spot a large blonde making his way back from the tube station. She was tempted to take matters into her own hand if he didn’t come home soon enough. It would be a shame since he had always been so sensitive to her particular… _needs,_ throughout her pregnancy. 

Well…maybe not initially.  When Gaby had first told her shocked and delighted spouse about their impending arrival she had been disappointed to find that his covetous and voracious sexual advances had all but ceased. 

He became exceptionally careful with her as though she were the elegant Ming vase on display in Waverley’s office; too valuable and delicate for any practical use. Their marriage was suddenly as chaste as their first fake engagement had been, but this time there wasn’t even drunken wrestling to burn off the tension.  When she had angrily confronted him on the issue he had been confused by her demands.

 _I did not think it was safe…_ he had admitted.  _Or that you would be interested now that…_ he had gestured to the small paunch of her abdomen.  She had glared up at him.

 _So now that I am to be a mother I can never think of or have sex again? I am just a receptacle? No longer a woman?_ she had chastised. He had denied her accusations, said he just wanted to protect her. She believed him but she didn’t need protecting, and with some creative encouragement, she had gotten what she had wanted and missed. Gaby had allowed him to be overly gentle during that time, making love to her thoroughly but slowly, focusing entirely on her pleasure and holding back a little at every turn as the most precarious months passed. 

That changed when her hormones had taken her on a roller coaster ride through her second trimester. On a near daily basis she alternated from resisting the urge to gouge out her husband’s eyes with her bare fingers to wanting to tear his damn clothes off every time a strand of his hair fell appealingly across his forehead or he came home with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his forearms lightly dusted with blonde hair. More nights than not had ended with her pinning Illya to the bed as she rode him into oblivion, belly and all, raking her nails down his chest as his fingers gripped the sensitive flesh of her hips and thighs. The last few weeks, however, had brought on yet another dry spell as her belly became increasingly unmanageable and she ached from her feet to her swollen breasts and everywhere in between. 

Her bloated irritability made it so she was more likely to fantasize about various ways she could murder Illya without consequence than indulge in daydreams about potential lovemaking. With the exception of medicinal foot rubs and cocoa butter applications she didn’t want to be touched or even looked at for extended amounts of time. She had somehow become a sexless creature that existed solely for naps and chocolate biscuit binges. 

Until today. A mere days away from hitting eight and a half months of pregnancy and a chemical switch deep in her brain was flipped. She had awoken a panting mess of twitching nerves and perspiring skin, slowly recovering from an explicit dream involving large calloused hands and Russian curses. Gaby reached out beside her but Illya had already left for work, leaving only the hazy memory of a goodbye kiss from hours earlier. Despite an unsuccessful cold shower and a painstakingly slow walk to the shops and back Gaby spent the day with the near constant quiver of anticipation and perpetually damp panties. She had stopped herself no less than a dozen times from ringing Illya’s office phone to demand he return home to service her.  

She wouldn’t need to wait much longer though as she heard the door to the downstairs entrance open and close followed by telltale steps on the stairs. When the lock clicked and the door opened, Gaby was there to greet Illya immediately. 

“Hello,” he said in surprise as he nearly walked directly into her.  

“Hello,” she replied, brushing her hands over her dress, hoping she looked appealing despite all the fabric billowing about her massive middle.  

Illya removed his coat to reveal a shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a tie loosened throughout his day at the office. Gaby almost pounced on him then and there…if she could pounce…which she couldn’t.  

“You look nice,” she said, looking at him hungrily.  

He crooked a brow at her with a smile as he hung up his coat, charmed by her strange behavior.  

“Thank you,” he said. “How is this one?” he asked, reaching out affectionately for the large swell between them. 

“I must be in his good graces today,“ she smiled looking down at his hand around the curve of her belly. “I haven’t been kicked in the liver nearly as much as usual.“  

Illya laughed and his smile sobered when his gaze drifted from his own hand to the swell of her breasts practically spilling over the top of her dress. Even modestly cut dresses and tops were made provocative by her growing bust - something she had never needed to worry about before. Now it was a struggle to keep them contained…and to keep Illya’s eyes off them. Today, however, his hungry stare was a welcome sight.    

“Illya…” she breathed, wanting to remove every article of clothing from her body and bury his face between her breasts. 

He blushed when he noticed her noticing his gaze. He removed his hand and looked away. “I am sorry, I-” he stammered before she pulled hard on his loose tie to bring his face down to hers. He gave a small gasp before she crushed her mouth to his, kissing and swallowing his groan as she nipped at his lower lip. She tried to pull him closer but her distended stomach was also succeeding in pushing him further away. 

Gaby growled in frustration against his mouth. “I want you to fuck me Illya,” she pleaded, getting straight to the point as his hands bunched in the fabric of her dress. “I  _need_ you to…” 

He pulled away to look at her in shock before he felt her wandering hand over the front of his trousers and his eyes darkened with intent. Gaby was exceptionally pleased when he backed her up to the couch, still kissing feverishly at her lips. A gentle nudge had her sitting and off her sore feet as Illya dropped to his knees before her. She suddenly felt absurdly self-conscious, plopped round and huge on the edge of the couch, but her negative thoughts fizzled when Illya pushed up the hem of her dress and he peppered kisses along the taut skin of her belly. He gently pushed her to lie back on the couch and lifted one of her legs over his shoulder.  

The roundness of her middle hid his face from view. While she missed the provocative looks he gave whenever he settled in between her thighs, there was something to be said for the excitement of being unable to predict his next move. She felt his lips travel along her inner thigh, warm breath drifting across her sensitive skin. A moment passed before she felt him nibbling her gently through the thin fabric of her panties. Gaby instinctively shifted with a sigh, spreading her legs wider for him. Illya’s fingers brushed along the inseam and pulled the fabric aside to expose her to his awaiting tongue. He groaned to find her already soaked through. 

“I’ve, ah…I’ve been like that for hours,” she moaned as he lapped into her. 

“You should have called office, I would have come home. Made any excuse…" he said from behind her belly before getting back to work. He toyed with her, deliberately teased her as he tasted but only barely brushed her overly-sensitive bud. 

She threw her head back onto the couch cushion with a groan of frustration. “Bastard…” she growled, digging her heel into his upper back, urging him to get on with it. 

“Shhh…” he hushed against her heat, “so impatient.” 

“For good reason!  _Gott Illya_ -yes!…” she panted. “I'm practically a ticking time bomb…” 

He huffed with laughter, one hand drifting over her abdomen before disappearing. She felt him part her folds and she clenched around his crooked fingers. Their movements coupled with the very tip of his tongue teasing  _just_ there had her squirming against him and whimpering for release. A final lap had her coming undone, gasping his name, fingers gripping his golden hair. Illya reemerged into view, kissing around her belly again as her spasms subsided. She looked down at him luxuriously, all the aches and pains of the last several weeks completely forgotten. 

“Would you like to go again?” he offered as he ran his hand along the inner thigh. 

“I would like you to take your clothes off,” she demanded.  

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, of course,” she said, furrowing her brow. “Don’t you want to?” 

“Yes,“ he said lowly, “I would like this very much.” 

They removed their clothing in a flurry, knocking over a tea cup on the coffee table in the process. Gaby unhooked her bra from behind to release her breasts, their heaviness still so unfamiliar to her. At the sight, Illya paused removing his trousers to finally bury his face between her breasts, sucking gently at her nipples which felt both erotic and odd considering their anticipatory purpose. She moaned and buried her fingers in his hair once again. 

After a moment, Gaby reluctantly pushed him away so he would finish undressing. Once stripped of his clothing Gaby instinctively tried to pull Illya on top of her on the couch. Her belly quickly put a stop to that so Illya pulled her closer to the couch’s edge. Even kneeling on the ground before her, the couch was a fraction too high for this position without Illya needing to lean awkwardly over her belly to be able to enter her.   

Frustrated and cursing her own body, Gaby sat up, got to her knees and made to turn around. Hands gripping the back of the couch Gaby stilled when she felt Illya’s hand run down her side, making her skin break out in gooseflesh. The couch cushions dipped as Illya planted his knees just beside hers and behind. 

His nose nuzzled the back of her neck. “Like this?” his voice rumbled beside her ear. 

She swallowed nervously and nodded her consent as his large hand swept up her thigh and belly and cupped one of her tender breasts. He gently kneaded her nipple as she pushed her hips back in needy anticipation.  

Gaby felt his hardness against her inner thigh as he sidled up behind her, the evidence of his arousal despite her size making her smile. The pads of two of his fingers teased at her entrance before slipping inside once again. 

He pushed into her. “Is this okay?” he murmured, a slight edge of concern in his voice. 

“I’m not going to break Illya.  _Please!_ ” she whined as she wiggled her hips in blatant invitation.  

He removed his hand and it was soon replaced by the thick head of his cock, pushing into her cautiously, agonizingly slow. Gaby was acutely sensitive in a way her body never had been before. She hissed but pushed her hips back nonetheless, trying to take more, but Illya steadied her with his hands on her hips. 

“ _медленно, Gaby_ ,” he begged. “We must go slow.” He began to fuck her with just the tip, his hands trembling as they glided along her sides and hips, barely retaining control. Gaby clenched tightly around him, making him groan out an unfamiliar curse, not unlike the ones uttered in her dream. 

She smiled to herself. It had been weeks since they had been here, he wouldn’t last long and she would revel in every moment of it. Despite his protests, she pushed back again, taking nearly his entire length, filling her up hot and thick as she gasped out her own curse. Illya leaned forward, one hand still on her hip as the other gripped the couch’s back alongside her own. He deepened his thrusts with the rhythmic slap of skin on skin, moaning Russian endearments and curses in turn. A drop of sweat dripped from his forehead and rolled down her arched back, combining with her own along the way. 

She turned her head, hair plastered to her cheek, to peer over her shoulder at Illya whose lips were parted and panting hotly behind her, eyes scrunched shut in exquisite pleasure.  “ _Илюша_ …” she begged mindlessly, using the diminutive form of his name, knowing just the reaction it would get out of him. 

He looked down meeting her half-lidded gaze before gasping desperately and removing himself. He gripped her body against his own as he jerked and grunted, face buried in her sweat soaked hair. 

Gaby caught her breath as his arm wound about her belly, a cooling wetness traveling down the back of her thigh.  

She gave a little breathless laugh when her mind processed what had just happened. “It’s a little too late to take that particular precaution isn’t it?” she panted. 

He huffed against the back of her neck, tracing his nose along the sweat-damp sweep of her shoulder. “It just seemed that it would have been…disrespectful. Being so close…” 

They knelt and leaned against each other, cooling and tempering ragged breaths. Illya spread his palm across her belly whose occupant was now active and pressing against his father’s hand. 

Gaby looked down to see a rippling bulge. She placed her hand over Illya’s. “I hope you enjoyed that,” she sighed. “One of the last times we’ll be able to do in the living room for at least eighteen years…” 

Illya kissed the back of her neck and hugged her tighter. “There is always shower, pantry, our offices,” he nibbled lightly on her earlobe, “the public toilets in the park…” 

She leaned her head against his shoulder and hiccuped with laughter. “Well if we ever want another one of these,” she said, indicating her belly, “we’ll need to get creative.” 

“I have no doubt we will.“ 


End file.
